


Pointless

by AnnieVH



Series: Don't Come Back [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6029725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumple has a conversation with the Sheriff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pointless

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: past domestic abuse (including psychological, verbal and sexual), past child abuse, terrible parenting all around. Anti-Milah, anti-Malcolm. Rated mature just for safety.
> 
> Verse: Don't Come Back, a Behind Closed Doors remix
> 
> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

Rumple had always believed that there was something inherently unpleasant about police stations. Something that made you feel immediately guilty, even though you never did anything wrong in your life. Because of Milah, he had to deal with law enforcement on a regular basis, especially during last year, and it had never been a pleasant experience. When it came to crazy ex-spouses who had no respect for restraining orders, the attitude seemed to be, “Sorry. Wish we could help, but we have _real_ crimes to investigate. Come back if she punches the kid again.” And that had been in Boston. The Storybrooke Sheriff's Department was not nearly as large and probably lacked the resources to be of any real help.

There were four desks, only one of them currently occupied. The officer had his back to him and was typing on his computer.

Rumple said, “Excuse me? Officer?”

The typing ceased and the man turned around. A square-jawed young officer with a friendly face. He asked, “Yes?”

“I'm here to see Sheriff Nolan.”

The officer eyed him from head to toe, spent an extra two seconds looking at his cane, then back to his face. Rumple knew that look. It was the “Are you sure you are related?” look.

“You Gold's son?” he asked.

Fifteen years, and that question still made him want to apologize. It was never followed by good things, not even once.

“Yes, well,” he shrugged.

The young man turned in his chair and aimed at an open door. “Hey Emma!” he shouted. “The guy's here to see you!”

After a couple of seconds, a woman showed up at the door. Equally young, not nearly as friendly. As unpleasant as it might have been, Rumple wished he could have talked to the other officer. He looked much more approachable. The Sheriff was already giving him that look he was so used to by now: _You came here to waste my time, and I'm going to make you regret it_.

“Are you Sheriff Nolan?”

“Swan,” she corrected, as hostile as she could sound without coming across as rude. “I'm Sheriff Emma Swan. _That_ is Deputy Nolan.” She pointed at the other officer. He gave Rumple a wave. “Your father keeps getting it wrong, and I'm starting to think he's doing it on purpose.”

“He... probably is,” Rumple agreed, pained. Good old Malcolm, making his life a little bit harder just by being himself. He didn't miss that. “I'm... I've just moved into his house. A couple of hours ago, actually. If you have the time, I'd like to-”

“Come in and close the door,” she ordered, turning her back on him.

“If you're busy, I'm sure I can talk to Deputy Nolan,” he tried.

Sheriff Swan whipped around. “Yes, that _would_ be the regular procedure, especially since we are understaffed and overworked. But since your father has been so kind as to call the Mayor and demand this be given top priority, I don't have a lot of options now, do I? Shut the door on your way in.”

She disappeared inside the office.

They were off to a good start.

Nolan looked at him, seemingly amused by the situation.

“Don't worry,” he whispered, no trace of mockery in his words. “She'll lighten up.”

“ _I can hear you_!” the Sheriff snapped, making the other man go back to his typing.

Rumple walked into the small office, closing the door as instructed. He waited for her to allow, “You can sit,” before actually taking the chair in front of her desk.

“Thank you for seeing me, Sheriff Swan,” he said, thinking pleasantries might help get pass her enmity. “I really appreciate it. I'm not sure just how much of my situation the Mayor has informed you about-”

“She said you have a difficult ex-wife who might come to town to cause trouble,” she interrupted, impatient.

Rumple wondered if those were the words of the Mayor, or his father's. No wonder the Sheriff was angry. Put like this, it seemed like Milah was nothing more than a nuisance he didn't want to deal with himself.

“I have a restraining order,” he said, taking the papers out of his back pocket.

Swan blinked and tried not to seem taken aback. She examined the papers carefully. Trying to identify a forgery? He wouldn't be surprised. He was the son of Malcolm Gold, and his father's name was not exactly associated with honesty.

After a moment, she said, “I wasn't told you had that.” It wasn't apologetic, but it was still more receptive than she had been before. She was ready to at least consider this as something serious.

“It doesn't matter, really,” Rumple said. “It's just a piece of paper. It can't keep her away.”

“And by _her_ you mean your ex-wife.”

He nodded. “Her name is Milah and we have a son. I have sole custody and she's not supposed to get anywhere near him. Or me. But she's been trying that order since we got it.”

Much like his father, the Sheriff said, “That's unusual. For a father to get sole custody, that is.” And just like the old man, she left the question implied. Since she sounded more concerned than curious, he answered, “She had visitation rights, at first. But they were revoked.” And left it at that.

She didn't press.

“Where is your son right now?” she continued.

“Across the street. I asked him to get started on the groceries.”

“Does he want to stay here?”

“I'm sorry?”

“Are you worried that he might run off to meet his mother or-”

“No, god no,” he shook his head, horrified at the idea. “No, Bae wants to stay with me. I'm worried about Milah. She doesn't know we're here, but she's resourceful. And she's tried to take Bae away on three separate occasions – I have the police reports.”

“I'll ask Deputy Nolan to make a copy,” she said, taking the papers from his hand.

“You can keep them. I have about four copies at home.”

“Cautious.”

“I have to be cautious.”

“Yes, I can see why,” Swan agreed, going over the reports, her eyebrows raising every time she flipped a page. Stalking, assault, harassment. “Did she really try to take him?”

“Yes.”

“ _Three_ times?”

“Yes.”

She skimmed the police reports again. Probably looking for the word _kidnapping_ to show up somewhere. But they had put the incidents down to _stalking_ , even the last one. She had forced him into a taxi and was trying to leave, what else did they want? A ransom note?

“I think the Mayor might have undersold this when she called,” the Sheriff conceded, and now she sounded apologetic. “Do you have any idea where she is now?”

“No.”

She raised her eyes. “Any last known address? Associates?”

“She... has a new boyfriend. I don't know his name. I don't think they have a permanent address.”

She put down the papers. “Mr. Gold, I understand that you and your son are in a complicated situation, but this is out of my jurisdiction. If you're asking me to chase down your ex-wife, I don't have enough manpower to do that.”

“I understand,” he said.

“And I can't assign someone to keep an eye on you, or your son-”

“No, of course not. That's not what I came to ask.”

She waited.

“I just want you to be aware that this is a serious situation. She's not just, how did the Mayor put it?”

“Difficult.”

“Yes. That. And if, by any chance, she does find out we're in Storybrooke, and she does try something-” several possibilities crossed his mind, one more unpleasant than the last. He didn't dare pick an example and say it out loud.

“I'll make sure this isn't taken lightly,” Swan said, guessing where he was going with it. “If it comes to it.”

Rumple stared at her. She sounded so sincere he almost felt relieved.

“Do you happen to have a picture of her?” she asked. “I'll show it to the guys and ask them to keep an eye out.”

He fished his wallet from a pocket, quickly, before Swan had the time to change her mind. He still had Milah's picture in there. It was two years old, but it had a clear view of her face, beautiful and smiling at him. He had fallen for that smile once.

“I'll make a copy, so you can have this back.”

Rumple opened his mouth to say he didn't need it, but the words didn't come out. He had come close to throwing that picture away several times during the last year, but he always stopped himself by insisting that, someday, he might need it.

_Or maybe old feelings die hard..._

Rumple shook his head. He hated looking at that picture. It always messed with his head. When the Sheriff returned it to him, he shoved it inside his wallet, in a pocket he never used. Eventually, he'd forget that Milah was still there.

Sheriff Swan walked him out of her office and shook his hand. “I'm sure nothing will happen, Mr. Gold. This is a very safe town.”

“I know,” he said, though that was more of a hope than a certainty. “Thank you, Sheriff Swan.”

“So,” David asked, as soon as Mr. Gold's son was out of ears' range. “Crazy ex?”

“Not quite,” Emma answered, handing him the picture and the reports. “I have a feeling we're about to have a big problem.”

 


End file.
